The Fey Courtesan
by Maylayn
Summary: The Prophecy was foretold, and the Dark Lord cut the chance of its fulfilment in half. But in the shadow's the Stolen Children of the First War have been revealed...SLASH LV/HP
1. Prologue

**Title:** The Fey Courtesan

**Fandom:** Harry Potter

**Pairings:** LV/HP, KQ(OC)/GW, SS/HG, DM/RP(OC)

**Summary:** The Prophecy was foretold, and the Dark Lord cut the chance of its fulfilment in half. But in the shadows' the Stolen Children of the First War have been revealed and the Ancient race of the Meretrix and the Lost Civilisation of the Fey have been reawakened. SLASH, slight FEMSLASH. LV/HP, KQ(OC)/GW, SS/HG, DM/RP(OC)

**Disclaimer:** Nothing belonging to the world of Harry Potter is mine, as it belongs to J.K.Rowling and all publishers of the Series and the Producers/Directors/Companies who helped bring it to the Silver Screen. Anything you do not recognise, belongs solely to me unless stated otherwise. This Disclaimer will not be repeated at the beginning of each chapter.

**Warnings:** This story contains **SLASH**, meaning a relationship between two males, as well as some **FEMSLASH**, which is female/female, if this is not your cup of tea, get going, because I will not tolerate people snapping at me for what I choose to write. There will be some mentioning of **PAEDOPHILIA**, which is the act of having/wanting sex with a young child. **SLAVERY** is also mentioned, as the characters are sold/bought. **RAPE** is also mentioned, though only in passing, if this changes I'll be sure to let you know before hand. As with most AU stories, there will be a large helping of **OOC**ness, I will not be explaining this constantly because it's here in the warnings. **OC**s will be introduced like mad, because the story is vastly different to canon.

**Prologue**

He stood before the odd looking house, gazing at its haphazard structure, wondering as to how a powerful wizard could even reside at such a place. The hooting of an owl echoed in the night as a lone wolf howled in the distance. Gripping his wand, he strode forward, ignoring the tug of magic as the Fidelius Charm broke around him. In a matter of minutes Dumbledore and his blasted Order would arrive, determined to stave off his own personal mission.

It hadn't been too hard to coerce the Secret Keeper into giving him the location of the house. He had information on their children that they desperately needed, and as such, they would do whatever he required of them. Not that he would ask too much of a Light family, this small tid bit of information was all he required.

As he strode closer, the hazardous design of the house stood out even more and the tangible hum of magic alerted him to the fact that the structure was only held together because of the sheer will of the inhabitants. But something felt off. The house felt remarkably like his informants had; like it was missing a member who had been taken. But unlike his informants house, which had held an air of mourning for the twins who had been stolen in the middle of the night, this one stank of the traitorous act of giving a child away.

He growled and brought his wand up and down in a jerky motion. The door blasted inwards, coating the room within with dust and debris. He stalked inside, snarling at the cluttered lounge room filled with portraits of all but the youngest child; the one who had been given away. He turned when a child's wail pierced the air, quickly muffled. He grinned from within his hood and made his way up crooked stairs, passing door after door, before he came to the only locked one.

"_Alohamora._"

The lock clicked and he pushed the door open casually. He had meant to make an entrance before, but now he only wished to frighten the eldest inhabitant. He narrowed his eyes when he spied the trembling blonde who clutched a baby to her chest. "Give him to me."

The baby sitter sobbed, holding the now howling babe tighter. "Please! Please, don't kill me!"

He chuckled, a dark sound that echoed about the small room. "Dear girl, do you think your life is worthy of death by my hand? The boy is all I want, you are free to run, if that is your wish."

The girl stared at him as he stepped away from the door. Looking at the babe in her arms, she made a choice. The red haired baby was placed quickly into his crib, before she shot from the room as if he was about to blast her dead. Smirking, he turned back to the baby, who stared at him with blank blue eyes. Scowling, he leaned forward.

"How can you possibly defeat me? But, never mind, child. This shall be quick and painless, I presume. For I must admit, I have never cast this spell myself."

Stepping back he traced a rune into the air, before muttering, "_Exsecror infans, findo vulvis!_"

As the brilliant pink spell connected with the child, he was aware of a scream. It sounded in his mind and echoed about the room, mixing with the babe's own wails. Realising it was his own, he sagged to his knees on the floor. Fishing a portkey from his pocket, he gazed at the child, content in the knowledge that the obscure spell had worked. The child's core was halved, and the missing piece would meld with his soon enough.

A laugh bubbled from his lips and spread out into the night as he vanished and faint pops were heard, a high-pitched scream adding to the mix.

_The One to bring the Dark Lord to his knees approaches,_

_Born to those with little Wealth and Standing,_

_He shall move with the Will of the Great One._

_The One to bring the Dark Lord to his knees arrives,_

_When the Deed is done, thrice over Stolen._

_Beware the Choice, lest ye be caught,_

_Choose well the Damned, lest ye make mistakes._

_Power is to be held, within the Collar of the Bound._

_The One to bring the Dark Lord to his knees approaches,_

_Born as the Deed is Chosen._

**A/N:** The idea for this story came about while I was perusing my Latin Dictionary and happened to come upon the Latin word for Courtesan, Meretrix. Innocent, I know. If anyone was wondering, the Boy Who Had His Core Cut is none other than Ronald Bilius Weasley.


	2. Ch1 To Take What Is Not Yours

**A/N:** Sorry this took so long. Between Shadow's Secret and writing, editing, deleting, rewriting etc etc…well, you get the idea.

**Speech Key**

"lalalala." Kabaracan, language of the Buhto tribes

"**lalalala.**" Parseltongue

"(lalalala)" Language of the Fey, called Lewero

"_**lalalala**__._" Queris, the Language used to Command a Meretrixan

"_lalalala._" Spells, book titles, potions or word emphasis

**Chapter One— To Take What Is Not Yours, And To Steal Freedom**

In the middle of the night, when the air was still and the temperature far below comfort level, large bonfires blazed in the dead centre of a desert that stretched as far as the eye could see, to the horizon and even beyond that. The Buhto's, those people who made this very same desert their home, were gathering around the fires, their voices raised in anger. One of the tribes glared angrily, their dark eyes reflecting the flames of the fires.

"We cannot go to the Mualim's Palace! It is sacrilege to even consider it!"

"And what use could Khazar have for one of the courtesans? We all know what he does to his slaves. Why would we allow one to fall to his hands, if there is even a possibility they are of the Seers Foretelling?"

The voices rose, and the leader of one of the tribes stepped smoothly forward, his eyes glaring disdainfully at his brethren. "Why should we fear these individuals? They were born to serve! Born with the need, with the ability to give one whatever it is that they were to desire. Why should we treat them any different from a common whore?"

Another of the leaders stood, fury blazing in his hazel eyes. "Because it is believed that the twins are of the bloodlines of Meretrix and Fey. We cannot allow them to be broken."

"It is too late. They shall be taught their places, and come sun down tomorrow, they shall belong to another!"

TFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFC

The Mualim's palace was very nearly silent in the dark of night, if it were not for the creaks as the stone slabs shifted in the cold. And if the private wing belonging to the current Mualim and his family was not inhabited by three individuals who seemed not to understand the link between 'sleep' and 'night'.

Ginerva Molly Weasley, who much preferred the name of Ginny since her family had voluntarily given her up just months after birth, was curled up in front of the fireplace and reading one of the thick tomes that lined the shelves around the room. Her warm brown eyes looked up as the door opened and a young man slipped silently into the room. His raven locks, though almost always messy in some way, gave real meaning to the 'just got shagged' look, especially since that was probably what he'd just been doing. Emerald eyes glanced around, landing on her first before taking in the sleeping form on one of the couches.

Diao, with no last, first or middle name due to their unceremonial dumping in the centre of the Hudaren Desert, padded over and crouched down beside the girl who slept soundly, one hand cradling her cheek. His identical twin, in every way except for the tattoo that spread over their backs, and the difference in the unique physical attributes they had been born with. Rose, whose name was the only one recovered thus far by the Mualim's men, was the most precious thing in his life. He would die for her, whether she asked it of him or not.

Diao sighed and tucked a strand of soft raven hair behind one of her slightly pointed ears. His own twitched and turned slightly, the overly large feline ears picking up on the slight movement as Ginny turned to face him. Rose had no feline features; no ears, no tail. Instead she had a pair of beautiful coal black wings that spanned over twelve feet. It was proof, the Mualim had told them, that they were not of the normal breed of human's. Somehow, their blood had mixed with an ancient race or two and they were the end result of an odd equation. The man never gave more information than that, claiming he had so very little to go on. But Diao knew that their protector had the knowledge of what exactly they were and he had already discovered it all on his own, and it wasn't as surprising as he'd thought it would be.

He turned and blinked against the bright, flickering light of the fire. His tail flicked as he settled down, laying his head on the same pillow as Rose. "How long have you guys been up?"

Ginny marked her page and closed the book. "Just after you left, so, about an hour." She cocked her head to the side. "It's getting worse, isn't it?"

He nodded, a sad look flitting over his features. "Every day." He closed his eyes, letting the warmth from his sister flow down the odd link they shared, one that had existed since either could remember. "It's like an itch now, just below the skin."

"How often does it come?" Ginny's eyes flickered and an odd blue flame appeared in them, the sign of a _Sereni_ Healer, the Mualim said. She placed the book on the arm of the chair and slipped off, kneeling on the floor before Diao.

"Once, maybe twice a day. It gets stronger, more insistent each time." Cool hands pressed to his temples and his eyes flickered open, watching as Ginny glowed a soft blue. He felt the calming touch of her magic and he relaxed, allowing it in to soothe frayed nerves, washing away the tingling that preceded the Itch. "Thankyou," he whispered as she sat back on her heels.

A soft smile played over her lips, making the flame brighten, even as it died down. "Who was it tonight?"

Diao felt his cheeks flush, something that only ever occurred in the safety of their rooms. He averted his eyes and watched the flickering play of light over the shadows.

Ginny's eyes widened. "Him! Diao, you cannot just simply waltz into the Mualim's rooms and…and seduce him!"

Emerald eyes snapped to her, and she saw —suddenly— what the Buhto tribe leaders respected in him. A burning fire, magic and raw potential, power and the determination that only a stubborn individual could possess.

"I did no such thing. He _called_ me, _He_ seduced _me_. Are you forgetting his own blood?"

"No." She shook her head. How could she ever forget the Incubi blood that swirled in the Mualim's veins? "Sorry, Diao."

He waved a hand through the air. "Doesn't really matter, Gin." He glanced back at Rose, a smile tugging at his lips. "I suppose we should all get some sleep."

Just as he was about to stand, he froze, ears twitching and the faint sounds of clashing metal and shouting reached him. He lay a hand on Rose's shoulder, debating whether it was safer for her to be awake. Shaking her vigorously, he watched as forest green eyes flashed open, focusing on him immediately. She took in the way his ears had flattened themselves and the agitated flicking of his tail, before she pushed her self up.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't know. But there's some sort of fight going on outside. Near the gates I think."

Rose stood up from the couch and blinked owlishly a few times. A sudden blast of magic slammed into the stone wall and the glass on the windows shattered, raining to the ground in sparkling shards. Diao shot a worried glance at the two girls, absently waving his hand. Instantly their night clothes morphed into more appropriate attire for a possible incursion. Black wings spread slightly, stretching in the dark shadows. The trio took one last deep breath before they ran to the window, hesitating barely a moment before leaping through.

Rose's wings snapped open and she glided in a circle, cool air rushing over feathers and skin. Her green eyes watched as Diao twisted, shadow's reaching out to slow his descent, and landed on the ground in a crouch, one hand placed on the dirt, steadying him. Ginny's fierce red hair sprouted flames and they wrapped around her in a tendril, whipping out and slamming into the ground, drawing her down fast. Her boot clad feet landed softly on the ground and her eyes flickered to Diao, before glancing up at Rose.

Immediately, magic sped their way. Rose swore as she banked sharply to the right, narrowly missing a spell that looked suspiciously like a _stupefy_, tucking her wings in and speeding toward the ground. Her eyes widened as she caught sight of the four men creeping up on her brother.

"Diao!"

Instantly, he ducked and spun, his foot lashing out and catching one of the men in the knee, a sick crack filling the air as his leg snapped. The other three held their hands out and a brown shield sprang up just in time to stop the sudden attack as the shadow's moved at Diao's call. He scowled and scanned the shield, keeping the attack up as he searched for a weakness.

"_**Stop!**_"

As if in slow motion, the shadows fell as his grip on them loosened, and his mind ordered his muscles to freeze, emerald eyes widening. He could not disobey the voice, no matter how much he wished to, not when they spoke in the only language he feared to hear. The language of the Queris, a command code it seemed, for those like him.

"_**Turn**__._"

His body moved, obeying even as his eyes burned with a fierce hatred. He glared at the man before him. He was wiry, like most of the Buhto's were, because these men were obviously they. But they had never dared force entry into this safe haven before, not if they wanted to escape the wrath of those with Demon blood. He was dressed in the plain, baggy brown pants and the knee length tunic they all seemed to prefer. But along the collar of the tunic, gold thread glinted.

A Shaman of one of the Buhto tribes. _Great._

"_**Walk forward**__._"

Jerky steps made him rock slightly as he fought the magic imbued in the language, which truly was not a language at all, since it sounded like the Common tongue to him. His eyes scanned the man, searching for some weapon, or a reason he was being targeted. A glint of silver had panic hitting him and he fought even harder. In mid-step the command suddenly failed and he pitched backwards, head impacting on the ground and sending flashing bright spots into his vision.

Before he could comprehend it, the man was suddenly on him, straddling his waist and snapping thick silver cuffs to his wrists, trapping his magic within him. He jerked and pitched to the side, trying to throw him off. But it seemed the wiry body served some purpose, as he twisted, brandishing a thick silver collar. Runes were etched into it, and although he only glanced, Diao knew that it was the mark of a slave. A slave to be sold.

His hand curled into a fist and he slammed it into the man's face, revelling in the crack as his nose broke and blood spilled forth. He pitched again, and the man gave a little, just enough for him to twist and wriggle away. As he scrabbled backwards, still on the ground, the man barked out an order, giving the collar to one of the men Diao had been fighting. He could feel a roaring heat somewhere behind him and his ears twitched and caught the sound of beating wings, and knew that Ginny and Rose still fought. He could not let them fall into the hands of these men, he would not…!

In his frantic state of worry, the man had managed to get close enough to lunge forward and snap the collar about his neck, cool metal biting against his flesh.

"(Bastard!)"

His eyes widened, fear and confusion creeping into the emerald depths. He pushed the man back and stumbled a few steps. His ears twitched as his hands came up, instinctively pulling at the collar. There was no clasp, and it could not be removed, the design could be changed, but he would be stuck with it unless the creator spelled it off. And the creator's of such devices would never reveal themselves. His ears flopped forward, covering his eyes as sudden despair flowed through him.

"Diao!"

Whipping around, he watched in horror as Ginny was encased in a thin vortex of water and as Rose was dragged from the air; the same cuffs and collars being placed on them. His legs gave out and he sank to the ground. "(I am so sorry)."

On the other side of the palace, a man with odd black eyes, bearing a crimson pupil, stiffened. Three thin bracelets on his right wrist glowed softly, before they unclasped themselves and fell to the dirt. He stared at them, anger, shame and horror flashed through his eyes, even as he slashed out at one of the Buhto's in retaliation. He had sworn protection to the ones linked to those bracelets, swore he would keep them as safe as he could.

Only an hour and a half ago he had called Diao to him, tugging on the young man's mind and flooding his body with desire. He could not keep his Incubi self from wanting him, everything about Diao called to him on a primitive level. Though he had never told him what he was, he knew the boy had figured it out long ago, even if he refused to tell Ginny. Though his blood ran with that of the Fey, he was not so close to that race, not like Rose whose wings bore witness to her blood. They both shared the same parents, the same blood. The race they leaned towards was simply different.

Half an hour ago he had bid good night to one of the legendary Meretrixan's.

TFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFCTFC

The day dawned over the illegal, and nomadic, marketplace of Al-ghalan. The colourful tents were opened, stalls erected, voices calling out in the cool morning. Laughter, yelling and the sound of metal scraping against metal sounded the opening of the market as the first rays of the sun spread gold over the area. Though banned from entering the space of muggles, or the areas controlled by the various Wizarding governments, the people who lived and survived off of Al-ghalan knew where and when was best to banter for the sale of their goods. And none knew this better than the Slave Trader, Mulis Khazar.

Mulis was a round-stomached man with a baldhead and beady black eyes that frequently reminded his customers of beetles. His brown skin was oiled smooth daily and his torso remained free of clothing. He wore nothing more that a pair of blue and red slacks that hung loose around his calves and stretched tight about his large thighs. He had been selling and buying slaves for a good sixty years and knew that today was surely to be his lucky day.

In the back of his tent, were three of the most beautiful, and prized, of all slaves. One, while not of the usual courtesan nature, was a fire elemental and had the disposition of the flames she controlled, both docile and sprightly all at the same time. The other, with the curious wings of the lost Fey, had small, almost unnoticeable tendencies that made her more of an educational teacher, rather than a slave. But people came all the time to Al-ghalan seeking teachers for their children, particularly pureblooded wizards.

The third was the most valuable and Mulis planned on making that obvious to anyone who happened to walk by the auction stand. That one, with his large feline ears and tail, screamed of Meretrixan blood. The finding of such a creature…he could not properly explain the satisfaction he felt. He had been searching for all these years, even just for one slave with but a drop of that precious blood. Pure Courtesans, born for that title. They practically invented it!

The world had long since believed the race of Meretrix to be long gone, extinct and removed from this plane of existence. And that was just it, wasn't it? They knew that there were other planes, worlds sitting just alongside their own. Who could say whether or not the Meretrix and the Fey had not retreated there?

He stepped into the tent, throwing a disdainful look at the large cage of pale skinned muggles. They foolishly wandered over the border of their own lands into that of the magical world, even touching the ground of the Hudaren Desert showed their foolish natures. He glanced at a slightly smaller cage beside that, eyeing the six orphaned witches and wizards within. He was sure that the one with blonde hair was closer to being a Mage, but he couldn't be entirely sure without testing him, and that took too much time.

He turned beady eyes on the most precious of all his slaves, sparing only a glance at the two girls. The emerald eyes narrowed as he stepped closer. He wasn't sure if he was a young man, or simply a teen. The smooth, golden skin and his youthful appearance didn't confirm it one way or another and he had refused to even show his years on his hands. Leering he stepped closer to the cage, watching as the boy's bright emerald eyes sparked. "Today, dear _Putaho_, I will gift you to the highest bidder. Perhaps they can make you scream?"

It was a sore point at the moment. He had failed, in the small handful of hours he'd had the boy, to even make him whimper. No matter how hard the lashing, as evidenced by the lines of whip marks over his back and chest, he never even winced in pain. Never even cried out when he allowed Yusef to ensure the usefulness of the boy.

The teen glared at him, hissing angrily, "(And perhaps you will die a fitting death. Perhaps even over a fire, roasting on a spit!)"

Hearing the hissed words, though not understanding them, he recognised the defiant voice. He pulled a thin piece of metal from the waistband of his pants, cracking it against the bars, and relishing in the involuntary wince the boy gave. "I think I will give Yusef one last go, see if he manages this last time."

Chuckling, he called the muscly guard from his post outside. Giving him the instruction to please himself as he would, Mulis left the tent after relishing in the way the boy cringed as Yusef entered the cage. He doubted he would truly ever hear a noise from the boy, but it didn't matter much in the long run. To get a sound he would need to break the teen, and broken goods did not fetch as high a price.

Whistling a random tune, he began to sit up for the auction. He had only a short amount of time to ensure everything ran as smoothly as possible. He could imagine the look in those emerald eyes when his collar was transferred to another. The boy would never be free of his fate as slave. Though he would never admit it aloud, he was vaguely worried what people would say when they say the whip marks. He shrugged and shuffled along, taking out a short wand and flicking it at the stand.

The sound of horse hooves thundering down the packed dirt and sand that sat beneath the tents rang out and echoing about Al-ghalan. A dozen black robed figures, on bay coloured horses sped past the many stalls until they reached the centre, the horses rearing as they slid to a stop. The figures remained motionless, the hooded heads all turned towards the one atop the only black stallion. His eyes, though dark, gleamed with crimson as they scanned the area, resting on the auction stand that Mulis was just leaving. He watched as the man entered the tent, the great golden belly jutting out as he walked.

Giving a signal to his men, he slipped down off the stallion, absently patting it with a gloved hand, paying no heed as they followed down onto the ground. He turned and motioned one of the figures forward, gazing into hardened silver eyes. "Lucius, you have leave to find a slave for Draco."

The hooded man gave a slight bow with his head. "Thankyou, my lord. Is there anything you require before hand?"

"No," he turned his eyes to the tent as the flap opened again, a muscled man exiting. "I shall peruse the stalls nearby for a time." He waved his hand at the remaining ten. "You may go, return to the edge of Al-ghalan in three hours."

Lucius waited until the men drifted off into the growing crowd, before turning his bright eyes back to the man beside him. "My lord, what is it you are seeking here?"

"Something which I believe will help me win this war against Dumbledore."

Silver eyes blinked from within the shadows of the hood. "You did not tell us that he had reversed the spell."

The eyes turned to him, glowing red and he barely hid his wince. "It is not your place, Lucius, to hear of everything that befalls me. But," he shrugged. "Nevertheless, this…Saviour, of their's has his entire Core back."

Lucius swallowed, his eyes drifting over to the slave trader's tent, watching the muscly man hammer a hook into the ground beside the slightly raised stand. "Are we searching for one of the ones in the Prophecy, my lord?"

"Yes," he hissed, eyes narrowing. "I'm here to find one of the 'Collar Bound'. One who could very well be of the blood of the _true_ courtesans."

Silver eyes widened. "My lord, but that would mean…"

"I am here to buy a Meretrixan."

**A/N:** Hope you guys like this! And Shadow's Secret should be updated some time this weekend, and I might be putting some of the companion piece up. Kee .


	3. Ch2 For Sale: One Elemental

**A/N:** This chapter took _ages_ to write. It was like my muse just wanted to traipse off to the land where Remus and Harry get it on, (I've recently become fascinated with it) and ignore the beauty of HPLV…or LVHP…Anywho, sorry it took so long for an update and I thank you all for your reviews and support!

(To **Disco-Dancing on the roof**: So sorry I neglected my second HPLV fic and started on a HPBZ one!)

**Oh and I just thought I should add this: there will be some _very_ adult things mentioned at random spots in the fic. I'm actually going to be loading this up eventually onto adultfanfiction because I don't want to break any rules here, nor do I want to be accused of causing young teens or children to be faced with adult stuff. Just thought I should mention it. Cheers!**

**Speech Key**

"lalalala." Kabaracan, language of the Buhto tribes

"**lalalala**." Parseltongue

"(lalalala)" Language of the Fey, called Lewero

"_**lalalala**__._" Queris, the Language used to Command a Meretrixan

"_lalalala._" Spells, book titles, potions or word emphasis

**Chapter Three— For Sale: One Elemental of the Flame and One Meretrixan Fey**

Diao glared as Yusef returned to the tent, hefting a heavy hammer and hook. The man leered at him, ignoring the angry voice that swore colourfully at him. Not that it mattered. No one here seemed to understand the language he spoke, besides Rose. He glanced at his twin who sat in another cage, one arm wrapped around Ginny's still trembling form. It had been horrible, when they were dragged from the palace, watching as the people they had grown up with fought to reach them. He had seen the confusion in their eyes as they didn't fight back against their captors.

Ginny, being an elemental of fire, could not fight back against water and even hope to win. She had been forced to remain still as the liquid swirled about her, dangerously close to her skin. If she hadn't been powered up at the time, the touch of water would not have been any different to any one else. As it was, she had only been able to siphon the magic out gradually, burning her wrists beneath the cuffs.

Wings, Rose had decided, were more of a hindrance when captured. The threats from the Buhto's had made her heart freeze. Broken wings took weeks to mend and she was in no mood to deal with that pain on top of the numbing cold she could feel. Diao was not taking their capture well, and his affinity for shadow and ice meant that he was dealing with it by remaining as impassive as possible.

But it wasn't the capture alone that was worrying him, and she knew it.

Diao had told her that the Mualim had discovered what they were, though the man would not say it, he left enough clues. Half blood Meretrixan-Fey's. Though she quite obviously leaned towards Fey. Diao was in the worst position of them all. The language of Queris was something he could not disobey, and even though she heard a little voice telling her to do as asked, she had the choice of refusing. He had none. If Mulis chose to tell the bidders that, there was little doubt in her mind that they would humiliate him.

Not that the idiot, Yusef, helped any. Being more Meretrixan than Fey meant that Diao was classified as true Courtesan, with a capitol, and was expected to bend to other people wishes. Not so, but it didn't stop the man from ordering him to obey.

The tent opened again and Mulis waddled over to them. "_**Stand.**_"

Diao glared at him. "(I'm thinking I want bacon right now.)"

Rose snorted. "(He remind you of a pig that much?)"

He threw her a smirk. "(Not really. Just enjoying the idea of him squealing in terror.)"

That was another thing that had irked them. Diao and Rose could no longer speak the Common Tongue, and were forced to speak in the flowing language of the Fey, Lewero.

Mulis glared at them, motioning for Yusef to unlock the cages. "We will be going now, the auction is due to begin. I want no silly business! _**You will stay quiet, and placid.**_"

Yusef attached their wrists together, linking them to a chain each, before leading them outside. The trio blinked in the harsh sun, blanching as they saw the crowd that had gathered before the raised platforms. Diao eyed the hooks in the ground and mentally snorted. He couldn't do anything, since he'd been ordered to remain 'placid', and though he couldn't say anything in a loud voice, he hadn't been refused the right to speak at all.

"(You know, Rose, I was thinking that this might not be so bad after all.)"

She shot him a worried look. "(You had better be being sarcastic right now, or so help me, those lash marks won't be so bad any more!)"

He sent her a small smile, even as Ginny blinked at the harsh sun that was beating down on top of them. Those lash marks were burning, had been since he'd received them an hour ago and he had the impression that one of the ones on his back was still bleeding, if the desperate glance Ginny was now giving him were any to go by. He would have no more healing at her hands.

She wouldn't be able to stop the Itch.

He frowned and bit his lip. That Itch had become a problem for him lately, and only the touch of the Mualim had managed to make it vanish. But the time between had been shortening each day. Even now, he could feel it crawling under his skin, sending fire through his veins. He had no idea what it was, nor what caused it, but surely the Mualim had known?

A man watched from the shade of a nearby stall as the three were tied to the hooks in the ground. His hood hid his face from curious glances, but he was truly using it more so for the protection it gave him from the sun which loomed over them like a great big burning orb of light. Lord Voldemort, who had once been known as Tom Marvolo Riddle, narrowed his eyes when he caught sight of the lash marks were littlered the chest and back of the boy. Twin emerald eyes flashed and the tallest girl turned to glare at the boy. He frowned, before he realised that they were twins.

The girl had large, coal black feather wings folded against her back and tied in placed by thick ropes. The boy, however, had overly large feline like ears and a tail, which was periodically twitching. He looked much like a cornered predator, and if he had to guess, he'd say that the boy would lash out if he were given the chance. As it was, he was curious as to why they were being so co-operative, the twins at least. The red head, most likely a fire elemental, was busy trying to trip the guard as the muscly man tugged on her wrists. Focusing on her bound wrists when a pained wince flashed over her features, he caught sight of severe burns about the shackles.

Eyes widening slightly, he glanced over the other two, searching for any more injuries that may have occurred. Finding none, other than several bruises over the girl and a vivid one in the shape of a hand on the boy's upper arm, he went back to surveying the area.

Despite other appearances, which he needed to keep in order to stop his men from questioning him, he was quite content with where he was. Not only in his bid to gain domination over the magical world, but also the current spot he was standing in. with the harsh Hudaren Desert sun beating down on his black robes, warming him from within, and the sights and smells that only a true market place could bring about, he felt peaceful, even as he gazed upon the auction stand. He was going to bid and win in gaining at least one of the three, preferably the boy, since he seemed to have enough Meretrixan blood to alter his physical appearance.

The Meretrixan's, to his knowledge, had long since abandoned the Three Worlds, leaving to join their long standing allies, the Fey, in one of the many unseeable and untouchable planes and worlds that were surely just beyond reality. All that had been left were the half-bloods, who seemed to drift in and out of the Three Worlds. The Three Worlds were made up of the Muggle World, the Magical World and the Hudaren Desert. The Desert served as a neutral point between the two, and could either span a dozen steps or hundreds of kilometres, depending on the intent of the individual crossing it.

There were some cases in which the Exiled Races lived within the Hudaren Desert, and the most notable of all was the Incubi and Succubi. They lived in a large sandstone castle, defended by both their own kind and mortal wanderers who found a home within the castle walls. The leader was supposedly called the Mualim, which stood for 'high prince' in the language of the Demons.

Sighing softly, he turned to see Lucius Malfoy striding imperiously back over to him. He could see, quite clearly, the sneer the blonde was giving the stall owners and the shoppers that were beginning to build up. "Lucius, did you find an appropriate teacher for young Draco?"

Grey eyes narrowed slightly. "No, my lord. It seems that this Mulis Khazar has run out any other traders. It appears that I will be bidding alongside you."

"But not against me," he hissed. His eyes moved back over to the cat eared boy. "I would hate to have to punish you, Lucius."

"Of course, my lord. I would not dream of getting between you and your goal."

Diao sighed, wrapping his golden fingers around the thick chains and tugging slightly. There was very little, if any, give in them. He closed his bright emerald eyes, ignoring the fact that more and more people were beginning to gather around the auction platform.

"(It'll be alright, Diao.)"

He opened his eyes and gave a grim smile to his twin. "(I hope so, Rose. If only for Ginny's sake.)"

Rose frowned at the red haired girl who was nervously biting her lip, her dark eyes darting around. "(I wish we could tell her that we're all far too precious like for any of these people to harm us.)"

"(Except for maybe them.)" He jerked his head in the direction of a group of white robed men. "(Priests of the Faith.)"

"(Now what would they be doing here…you don't think they've come to bid on us, do you?)"

Diao frowned. He watched as the priests carefully made their way through the milling crowd, moving so that they stood just in front of them, as close as the barrier Mulis had thoughtfully erected for them, allowed. Which, in truth, was barley half a metre from them. "(Do you suppose they understand us?)"

Rose gave him a sharp look. "(How can they? We speak Lewero, I doubt any wizard alive can even guess a word.)"

He relaxed then, all his muscles loosening. Cocking his head to the side, he gave the priests a taste of just what he could do. His bright eyes darkened to a deep, pure emerald, their true colour, before they seemed to smoulder. Instantly the five priests gave involuntary shudders, their blank blue eyes glazing over. He fought back the grin, even as he swore in his mind. The Itch was suddenly there; burning through him and it was all he could do not to moan.

Unseen to him, a group of black robed figures moved swiftly through the crowd, the leader growling angrily when they neared the priests. "Come to find yourselves a new play toy, priests?"

The men shook themselves, and Diao blinked, forcing the Allure to cancel out, sending his eyes back to a bright colour. "(God, who is this? The supposed Dark Lord?)"

Rose snickered. "(Why don't you just use that Allure and make him tell you?)"

"(Because, dear slaves, it will not work.)"

Diao jerked, eyes going wide when he realised that the figure had spoken the same language as them. "(You speak Lewero?)"

"(I speak many languages. What I want to know, is how you speak it?)"

Rose blinked. "(The language is natural to us, but the collars force us to speak it, and it only.)"

The figure leaned forward, and Diao caught a glimpse of his aura as the barrier pushed him back. Crimson pupiled eyes and pale skin shined from within his hood. "(Exactly what race are you?)"

Diao looked at Rose who shrugged. It didn't matter what they said, they were going to be sold anyway. "(The Mualim hinted that we were Meretrixan Fey's, though my sister has more of the latter than I do.)"

"(Indeed.)" He murmured, stepping back. "You should find something else, priests, these ones are not for you."

"Who are you to decide that!" One of the men glared at him, pale blue eyes daring the black robed man to act.

"The Dark Lord." The priests jerked back. "So I suggest you steer clear of these three."

Diao blinked, even as the priests reluctantly retreated, leaving the area completely. "(Well now, that's a useful ability.)"

"(Just as useful as your own, dear Meretrix.)"

He looked up, gazing into eyes that glowed from within the shadows of the hood. "(Perhaps. But if cause its fair share of problems.)"

The man tipped his head to the side. "(Be sure that I will be purchasing you this day.)"

He scowled. "(I'm not an object you know. And if you buy me, you buy my sister.)"

There was a hissed breath, but Diao refused to back down, his emerald eyes glittering as he dared the man to deny him that. "(Very well. But I cannot purchase the Elemental. I do not have the means to transport her, nor the knowledge of how she should be treated.)"

Rose frowned. "(It's not hard you know. Ginny can take care of herself.)"

"(Rose.)"

"(What?)"

Diao sighed. "(He means her power. Remember, they put the cuffs on when we were all powered up, her burns would be there for a while and without proper treatment…)"

Mulis cleared his throat, as he waddled up onto the platform. Diao rolled his eyes and gagged a little when Yusef grabbed the collar and pulled back. He watched as the man who proclaimed himself the Dark Lord reluctantly walked away, joining the crowd before them. He wasn't really interested in anything the man had to say, but this was his life, so he had to listen, at least for a bit. Not that he was intending on allowing anyone to use him easily, but he much preferred the calm aura of the Dark Lord. That man had a smooth black and red one that wrapped around him, while the others in the crowd had either turbulent ones or extremely weak ones.

He could only hope that his new owner would understand his little problem with The Itch.

Mulis folded his hands together and peered out at the crowd through beady black eyes. This was a better turn out than he'd hoped for. He would be ignoring those from al-Ghalan, since they wouldn't appreciate his prizes, and he would turn a blind eye to those visitors dressed in scraggly robes, he had little patience for the poorer citizens of the Magical World. He narrowed his eyes when he spotted one of the Mualim's agents at the back, watching him with red pupiled eyes. He hated the Demons that called the Hudaren Desert home; if they were exiled from the other Worlds, why should the Centre World play host to them?

But he was pleased to see the pristine white robes that signalled the Priests of the Faith, their glittering Phoenix pendants silver in the harsh sunlight. He wouldn't mind selling to them, since he knew they would use the boy for what he had been created for. Oh, how would love to be there when they broke him!

And there was another group. Black robed and hooded figures who cast a dark aura over the crowd surrounding them. Death Eaters. Perhaps even they could make him scream? Breaking the Meretrixan was one thing, but to gain control over his voice? It was a priceless gift, one that was more powerful given but still strong when stolen. He would even pay them whatever they asked just to hear the boy as they used him.

"Welcome! My dear friends, welcome! I greet you fondly on this, a most beautiful day!" He glanced around, noting that the boy was steadfastly staring at the ground and tugging on his chains. "Many of you will remember that I bring only the finest stock, from all corners of the Three Worlds, so that you may have the best that galleons may buy!"

A vampire shifted in the shadows, watching intently from her vantage point. Her deep eyes were focused completely on the red haired girl whose wrists bore magically wrought burns. An Elemental of the Flame was a useful attribute to anyone, but more so to one who feared fire and light. A glance about the crowd showed that her only opposition would be in the forms of the Death Eaters and the Priests of the Faith. She curled her lip up at the latter; she held no love for them.

"Today, I bring before you three of the most sought after beings, two of which belong to Ancient Races long believed to have abandoned us. But first, I give you, A Fiery Elemental of the Flame!"

Yusef shoved Ginny forward, causing her to stumble slightly. Her brown eyes glared angrily at Mulis, who merely tipped his head to the side, one chubby hand held out towards her. She refused to even look at the crowd as the bidding on her life began.

"I will start, for this one, at the price of 2,000 galleons! Do I hear 2500?"

"2600!"

"Ah, and 2700?" He nodded to a well dressed man near to the front. "Thankyou, dear sir! 2800!"

It continued much like that, with Ginny's eyes frantically flying about the crowd, desperately searching for a familiar face. She saw the demon, and nearly sagged with relief when he cried, "4900!"

Mulis blinked, since he'd only been up to 3150. "Good, good! 5000?"

The vampire hissed. She'd missed the demon. Wrapping her cloak about her and pulling her hood forward more, she stepped out into the light, wincing at the brightness. "7000!"

The demon whipped around, eyes wide. "8000!"

She smirked, "10,000 mister Khazar."

Mulis' eyes widened and he snapped his fingers. "Sold! If the kind lady would please make her way to the tent, she may become better acquainted with her purchase."

Yusef unhooked Ginny, tugging her into the tent, where the vampire followed. The demon hissed angrily before turning his eyes back to the auction. Two more still remained, and he would make sure they were safe. The Mualim wanted them back where he could protect them, where he could search out the Creator of their collars and free them. He could not afford to allow them to be taken by either the Dark Lord or the Priests. Either side was a danger to them.

Mulis bounced on the balls of his feet, a pleased look on his face. "Good, good! Now! On to the next item! These two beside me," he waved a hand and received twin glares in return. "Are twins, born of the blood of a Meretrix and of a Fey." He paused, allowing the information to sink into the consciousness of all assembled. "I will begin, with the girl."

Voldemort curled his lip, before he addressed the man beside him. "Lucius."

"My lord?" Lucius turned slightly, waiting his instruction.

Voldemort narrowed his eyes as the demon upped the price from 7000 to 11,000. "You are to purchase this one."

"Yes, my lord."

"Do not fail me."

The blonde straightened, listening as an anonymous member of the crowd bidded 15,000. He cleared his throat and decided that now was a good time, before the auctioneer decided to cut it off short. "30,000!"

Mulis jerked, even as Rose cast a worried glance at Diao. The Dark Lord had assured them they would be bought together. "31,000?"

The demon hissed, "37,000!"

Lucius settled back, prepared for his final strike, because he was surely growing tired of standing in the harsh heat of the Hudaren sun dressed in heavy black robes. "55,000."

Mulis instantly called out, "Sold!" Before he snapped his fingers and directed Lucius into the tent. Rose yanked back on her chains as Yusef attempted to get her to move into the tent, her emerald eyes narrowed in anger.

"(No! I will not go! You can't make me!)"

Diao could only watch, horror filled as his sister was forcibly pulled into the tent, a hooded man following after her at a leisurely pace. Everything in him screamed for him to go after her, and he wrapped his hands once more around the chains, eyes narrowed in concentration. With one swift yank, the chain snapped several links up from the hook, flinging free and catching him in the shin. Wincing in pain, he turned, ready to run after his sister, when pain suddenly cut deeply into his skin.

Diao shook, even as the pain was changed into pleasure, because he didn't want to feel anything. The silver rod in Mulis' hand came down again, far too swift for him to even think of dodging and the same mixture of pain and pleasure bloomed on his back. He fell to his knees, unable to stand up under it, and he dimly heard Mulis speak once more.

"And finally, I gave you my most precious prize. As you can see, this twin has more of the Meretrixan blood in him, as evidence by his feline like appendages and his ability to turn pain into pleasure. Shall I start the price at 65,000?"

**A/N: **Bah, I apologise if this was terrible, but it was sitting on my computer with me only mulling over the horrible writing towards the end. But, I needed to update and I didn't really have any excuse not to.

The idea that an individual can change, or experience, pain as pleasure was partly inspired by a book called **Kushiel's Dart**, which I read a while ago and whose author I can't remember.


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